


Tears and Tears

by ConstancePenman



Category: Portal (Video Game), Portal 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Near Death Experiences, Portal Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 15:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9130264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstancePenman/pseuds/ConstancePenman
Summary: Homonyms do not equate synonyms.In which Chell is injured and absolutely no one helps her. Because who would ever care? No one. That's who.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is my secret santa gift to ask-glados-queen-of-aperture! It is so much later than I expected, so sorry for that, but hopefully you like it! Happy Holidays.

     I. "Death"

Chell had never been the most cautious person. It had truly been good luck that she hadn't screwed up sooner. But now she lay on the floor, surrounded by deadly not-quite-water and wondering how she would get out of this one.

Her lungs began to burn. Holding her breath no longer an option, her mouth gulped in some of the liquid without consulting her brain. She coughed uselessly, still cradled as she was in the liquid lifting her up towards air.

Chell's brow furrowed. That couldn't be right. The thing at her back was solid metal, a sharp contrast to the uncomfortably warm substance around her. She broke through and breathed in as much air as she could with thick liquid still in her lungs. Everything was hazy, but at least the pain had faded. Chell couldn't tell what was happening, but perhaps that was for the best, considering.

She wouldn't remember much of this experience when she awoke from the induced coma. She'd remember falling, that first breath of undefined liquid, then only awakening at the door of the chamber, GLaDOS' voice playing the same clip as if nothing had happened. With the number of scars, bruises, and burns she got at Aperture, the soreness of a tube threading down her throat went unnoticed. Later, she would decide that she had imagined the whole thing. The only one who could prove her suspicions would vehemently deny anything that might suggest she didn't simply wish Chell dead. Besides, she would never be asked.

     

     II. Beauty

Chell looked disgusting.

Her hair was caked with dust and debris, her face bloodied and broken, her jumpsuit pitifully torn apart. The spark of cold determination still flashed in her eyes with every jump from a puddle of blue, but overall she was a sight to behold.

A terrible sight. Which GLaDOS' new and temporary body didn't allow her to turn away from.

Still, there was something hidden within the mistake that was Chell's face. A note of… hesitation. Or—and this seemed ridiculous— _fear_.

The mere idea of seeing Chell afraid was ridiculous. What did a monster like her have to be afraid of? It was GLaDOS who should be afraid, being held in the arms of her… whatever Chell was. She supposed that anything preceded by a possessive pronoun couldn't possibly be an accurate definition.

In any case, she had to say something. After a moment of thought, all that came out was "You're not going to die."

Chell looked down at her, showing off her double chin, surprised.

"I've tried to kill you. Many times. If I can't do it, the moron certainly can't."

The human gave her a small smile at that, but it was more forced than it should have been. Unacceptable. Again.

"Besides, do you really think I'd allow you to die? At this point, you're much more useful to me alive than dead."

Her eyes began tearing up. Ugh. Chell looked up and away, apparently trying to hide her reaction from the potato battery. What had she done? Wasn't ensuring the worst wouldn't happen the common thing to do in these situations? Perhaps…

"Chell?" she started quietly. The human looked down in surprise at the name, though nearly the same thing had just happened. "You're the best test subject I've ever had. You'll do fine."

More tears. Damn. However, they came with crinkles at the corner of her eyes, a genuine smile on her fish-like lips, and—

Oh.

Chell was hugging the portal device and GLaDOS, if only by proxy. The monstrous and wet face was uncomfortably close to her starchy one.

Maybe she'd said something right after all.

(Which she'd of course been certain of all along.)

 

     III. Notes

There was a sharp note of silence throughout her facility (and it was hers again; finally, wonderfully hers). After the journey they'd had, it was welcome but foreign. No fire in her walls, no moron vying for power, no lunatic attempting murder.

Well… she supposed there was opportunity for murder yet. Chell laid on the floor like a pierced balloon, burnt from the bombs, breathless from space. GLaDOS couldn’t look away—if she did, she was certain that her test subject would die.

And that was what she wanted, right? From the chamber meant for military androids, that'd been her goal. But faced with the reality of it, the idea of brushing such an important figure off stage was absurd. If she left the body alone, it was a certainty that it wouldn't survive. Still, did she really want Chell alive? Wouldn't she just try and kill her again?

Deep in the bowels of Aperture, down in Cave's domain, she had promised Chell her freedom. She hadn't known then if she'd keep her promise, but now it seemed she had to make up her mind: put Chell back into testing (risking both their lives in the process), let Chell go (thus losing her best test subject as well as any way to ensure her safety), or let Chell go… in another way.

Clearly, what with how long she'd been staring, the last one was not an option. And while that small, all too human part of her that Caroline had gifted was greedy and possessive, wanting to keep Chell all to herself, the logic given by her own code told her that a promise was a promise. Besides, GLaDOS rather preferred the land of the living to the purgatory she'd experienced after being brutally murdered. And she had made those robots. Might as well put them to use.

As soon as she'd made up her mind, she summoned a nursing station to her chamber, immediately putting the damaged _ex_ -subject into intensive care. Aperture's superior medical technology would have her fixed in no time.

Or, as the machinery's estimate revealed, in three weeks, two days, seven hours, six minutes, and forty-five seconds.

Plenty of time to compose then.


End file.
